ONE STILL LIVES

   Artwork courtesy of Aaron Nakahara AKA CobaltPlasma - Check him out! https://www.artstation.com/cobaltplasma/profile

Playlist of the music within:
​www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSaxxPaScGHoWGK8Y7suPL9JZwlUvw--K

Under the low light of a full moon, a mass of brutalized corpses come into view across a bloody and scarred battlefield. An epic battle has reached its conclusion. Limbs are scattered over the terrain, which is heavily impacted by dozens of craters surrounded by seared and blackened soil. Within the desolate and charred landscape, a lone warrior remains standing.

The warrior is fully equipped with an immaculate set of matte black gothic plate mail, the only reflective surfaces being those covered in blood. The curved edges of his armour are immaculate without a single scratch or dent from weapon impacts. His plate helmet resembles that of a ram skull, with horns curling behind the head and wrapping around to form part of the chin protection. Atop his headdress is three spires. The centre spire is perfectly vertical with the spires on either side jutting out at sixty-degree angles and, where they join the helmet, forming part of the brow. The helmet is fringed by armoured shoulder plates, layered like lotus petals in line with the height of the warrior’s jawline. Short tassels of cloth dangle from the peripheries of the shoulder plates, which are emblazoned with symbols of fire.

His chest armour comprises a dozen black steel layered plates which are adorned with emblems and patterns made of a lighter shade of black. From his solar plexus to his navel, his armour is ornamented with a golden symbol of the sun with etchings around its edges indicating the sun’s brilliance. The warrior’s legs and feet are similarly fortified by the same design of armoured plates.

The warrior’s cape shimmers gently in the smoke-filled wind, not a single thread out of place. He plants the base of his halberd securely into the ground. Blood oozes down the curved blade and drips to the ground. The warrior surveys the carnage around him; his expression is one showing approval of the slaughter and gore.

He looks to the distance; a mountainous horizon encapsulates him. He scans the view of the snow-capped mountains until his objective comes into view. The warrior identifies a gargantuan tree prevailing in the harsh climate, displaying no earthly connection to the landscape and being the only visible life form in the desolate expanse.

The warrior thinks to himself, “So it’s true, that must be my brother’s prison. His arrogance and rancour have finally become his downfall. Will burning it down will set him free? Or will he perish and his power become mine?”

The warrior pauses for a moment in thought until he concludes, “I must find out.”

A hint of a smile washes over his face before being interrupted by a proliferating flash of light across the sky, followed by an unexpected crack of thunder. The warrior looks to the heavens.

“There’s not a single cloud in the sky, such a sound is not possible”, he determines.

Another crack of thunder echoes in the distance and the sonic wave booms through the entire region, unsettling the ground. Stones rattle around the warrior and the shock punches through his chest, making his balance unsteady. The sound of footsteps comes into range behind him and he turns to face the approaching stranger.

A young man advances from behind a crescent crater where the earth’s surface was rippled and cracked by a devastating impact. An immense amount of power would have been required to create such a blast effect on the terrain. The stranger pays it no mind and fearlessly ascends the mound of dirt and stone surrounding the arced depression and stops on the ledge. Loose gravel and stones tumble down as the stranger makes his final step, revealing his face in the light.

Still in his adolescence, the young man has long and unkempt black hair obscuring half of his face. His back is clad heavily in layers of black shredded materials which flow down to the dirt far behind him. The front of his armour has the same layered black material flowing to his sides, and his black leather pants are clasped by a black belt with silver studs. Below his navel is a silver belt buckle adorned with a skull and two flanking skeletal hands with middle fingers up, a rude gesture among certain cultures. Metal studs are crudely pierced through the top of his leather boots and along the knuckles of his finger-less black leather gloves.

The pair meet eyes for a brief moment. Uninterested, the warrior turns away and begins walking. He barely gets a second step before the young man stops him.

“Hey! I’m not finished with you!”, shouts the young man.

Out of the dozens of dead men around the lone warrior, one still lives, a druid by the name of Arkane. He was knocked unconscious in the previous battle. Perhaps by the shout of the young man or the intense pain he is in, he regains consciousness. His eyes quickly dart around trying to figure out what has happened. Laying in the depths of the crater, his memory fails him as he tries to piece together the last fragments of recent events. He attempts to move, but his body is extremely weak, broken and battered. His body fails him as he tries to rotate and see the fate of his comrades. Despite the agonizing pain, Arkane uses every ounce of strength he has left to turn his head towards the sound of the approaching stranger. Through blurred vision all he can see is a silhouette of a long-haired man standing at the top of the crater, his clothes rippling in the wind.

The warrior stops and turns to face the young man once again, his expression is one of frustration. With a deep and chilling voice, the warrior says, “Do you not see the dead around you boy?”, gesturing to the corpses around them.

The warrior continues, “Their efforts were futile and so will be yours. Leave me be, it’s over.”
The young man clenches his fists, grits his teeth and, with a furious expression on his face, lets out a powerful scream, “It will never be OVER!”.

The ground vibrates as the words explode out of the young stranger’s chest. Gravel and stones tumble into the crater as it starts to collapse from the sonic waves of his voice. The warrior is taken aback for a brief moment, his expression showing a hint of shock until the young man ends his scream, then promptly returning to a bleak stare, frustrated.

The Warrior grunts, “What is your name, boy?”

“Does it matter?”, the young man replies in a sarcastic tone.

The warrior responds, “This might make a good tale to tell my brother. I want to know the name of the lone fool who dared to challenge not only a WARRIOR but one who had fought two dozen and lived, victorious! And trust me, they were more fearsome and worthy of death than you”.

“However,” he pauses, “I am feeling merciful. I will give you this one chance to live. I assure you, you ARE finished with me. Leave now. You are of no consequence.” The warrior’s expression shows his immense frustration as he nails his final point. The warrior breaks eye contact to spit on the ground in front of him, gazes back into the young man’s eyes and turns away.

That comment tears at the pugnacious young man’s pride. He simply couldn’t let that stand.

Infuriated, the young man yells, “No consequence? Fuck you, no consequence. I’m grave consequences, motherfucker. The name is Gabriel and I’m here to put you down.”

The warrior stops as Gabriel continues, “And you won’t get a chance to tell that tale. I wasn’t just talking to you when I said I’m not finished with you. One still lives, and I will make him destroy you.”

With a sigh the warrior responds, “So be it, a half-dead soldier will not be your salvation.”

The warrior turns back to young Gabriel with a smug smile on his face but before he gets a chance to respond further, Gabriel takes in a deep breath, his chest expands and his head tilts back as he builds up power. The warrior pauses a moment to comprehend what Gabriel is doing. Gabriel looks into the crater and points at Arkane and screams. Each word screamed builds in intensity and the final word explodes with immense power, unleashing a massive shockwave, scattering stones and dirt in an arc from Gabriel’s feet.

“I said. . . I’m. . . not. . . finished. . . with. . . YOU!!!”

Arkane feels a shock in his chest and his heart starts to beat fiercely within. In one graceful movement, Gabriel reveals a guitar that was slung around his shoulder by a strap and hidden underneath the materials of his improvised chest armour. He swings the guitar around his side and catches it in front of him. The guitar was a simple electric guitar with some personal make-shift alterations. The body of the guitar had been cut and sanded down to modify its shape. The symmetrical and curved, yet jagged edges resemble more of a battleaxe than a guitar. The edges were plated with sharpened steel and the body was repainted with a gloss of red, orange and black. A large bayonet was fixed on the neck and the frets had carved runic symbols inscribed into the wood.

Gabriel draws a guitar pick wedged between 3 strings at the end of the neck of the guitar. Holding the guitar vertically Gabriel drags his guitar pick along the strings starting from the neck of the guitar towards the body, releasing a cacophonic screech.

*Play intro of dirty little secret, Bullet for my valentine* (first 54 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkvN9uGedPc

The rippling power of the sound’s vibrations somehow creates two opposing forces in front of him, ripping the atmosphere horizontally. Fierce white arcs of energy burst from the spatial tear. The forces start to become more and more unstable as they build with intensity. Gabriel continues to drag the pick closer to the body of the guitar and the note played gets higher and higher while the energy in front of Gabriel builds in power and size.

With one elegant maneuver, he swings the guitar neck towards the warrior and plays the final high note, thrusting his arm downward, bending the string up and letting out an immense roar. The unstable and built-up power of the spatial tear closes, leaving behind an energy shard that erupts towards the warrior with blazing speed, maintaining its trajectory while Gabriel perpetuates the scream.

With equally impressive speed the warrior responds with a defensive block maneuver with his halberd, using a single arm. However, the energy shard carries an incomprehensible amount of impetus, pushing the warrior back 50 meters in less than a second. The warrior is stunned at the mass of power encountered and uses his free hand to bolster his defensive stance with his halberd and digs in his heels. The earthen rock beneath him bursts under immense pressure and the rock below shreds against the heels and armour on the warrior’s legs while he continues to be pushed back.

Gabriel turns to Arkane and begins to play the guitar, hammering on the strings and releasing a high-pitched melodic guitar riff. Harmonic resonances reverberate back off the surrounding mountains, sounding as if two guitars are playing.

Gabriel uses his mastery of sound waves to conjure music and amplify the sound of his guitar. The earth starts to thump with a faint but rhythmic beat on either side of Gabriel, which builds in intensity until it seems as if something as heavy as 10 tons is hitting the ground again and again. The rhythmic thumping cracks the ground around the warrior and rocks recoil from each impact. The atmosphere begins to crack and the sound releases small ripples mid-air, making a sound resembling that made by a snare drum. Sparks begin to fly as if two swords have made an impact, making the sound of a cymbal strike. The air around Gabriel thrums with a low frequency, progressively turning into an audible deep drone of a bass riff as it joins in to back the guitar riff perfectly.

The skill of Gabriel is palpable as he rocks back and forward building up for the first verse. The series of hammered notes reach the apex and he screams, releasing the built-up energy in a melodic yet heavy metal riff on his guitar, which perfectly lines up with the surrounding rhythm. The guitar riff is a compendium of scaled, hammered and syncopated strums, teeming with the motivations and emotions he feels - hate, vengeance, rage and destiny. It is then complemented by a series of high-pitched and harmonious notes at the end of the riff cycle only to return to the heavy riff again.

Arkane looks on in awe, incredulous, as Gabriel begins to sing...

“As long as there’s air in my lungs and words on my tongue, it’s never over!
 
As long as I have pain in my nerves and energy reserves, it’s never over!
 
As long as there’s conscience in my mind and hope for mankind, it’s never over!
 
As long as there’s blood in my veins and evil remains, it’s never over!
           
As long as there’s heartbeat in my chest an end to this quest, it’s never over, never over!”

His voice is harsh yet clean and melodic. From the first uttered word, Arkane feels a grip on his chest, like something pulling at him from deep within. It almost feels like he no longer has full control of his body, he is nothing but a witness as he is brought to his feet. Arkane cannot believe that this feat is possible. He is astonished at how he is now standing with no aches, no crushing pain in his legs and chest, and that, somehow, he feels lighter and more agile.

Arkane is certain that there must be broken bones in his body, yet here he stands, empowered and ready to fight. The encrusted blood in his shoulder-length hair crushes into dust as he brushes it out of his bruised and bloodied face. Arkane’s chest, arms and legs are equipped with a primitive set of studded leather armour. The armour design has only one unprotected area, a gap between his shoulder pads and the armbands on his forearms. The layout is designed to provide more freedom of movement of the arms. The armour doesn’t provide much protection, however, as the materials are in tatters from the previous battle. Each tear in his chest armour reveals a cauterized flesh wound surrounded by charred material. Around his waist is a draped sash made out of animal skin and held up by a leather strap which is also threaded through a series of animal skulls and furs.

Arkane locates his twin one-handed axes in the crater and picks them up. Each axe handle contains runic carvings and the blades are inscribed with similar magical symbols. Arkane forged these weapons himself.
The polished blade was crafted from the obsidian tooth of an undead dragon. The dragon was part of a demon army that lay waste to his tribe a decade ago. The axe handles were crafted using the remnants of a staff used by the tribe chieftain. Arkane broke the staff in twain that released immense nature magic which imprisoned the Arm's general in a giant tree. The magically imbued wood of the handle is still in immaculate condition despite being used in countless battles.

As Arkane equips the weapon, the druidic rune symbols carved along the handle begin to hum with power in unison with the exposed runic tattoos on Arkane’s lower arms and hands. For a brief moment, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the smooth and reflective surface of the axe blade, the curvaceous surface slightly warping his face. 

Arkane allows the music to influence him, drawing on the power in the music and lyrics. He delves into his mind and the ambient sounds fade as he becomes filled with deep emotions conjured by the memories of his recent past. He runs his fingers along the green tassels hanging from the axe handles, which were fashioned from his daughter’s armlet, now stained with his dried blood from the preceding fight. He becomes reminded of the anger and sadness he felt on that grim day when he lost his wife and daughter, along with the entire community of druids. They had saved him from being a mindless and soulless vessel only to be commanded to commit abhorrent atrocities. They had given him life, free will and purpose.

He loved them all deeply and, despite their death being a decade ago, his feelings of loss have not waned. As much as Arkane laments feeling these emotions, they would never be possible without the community of druids that gave him succour and the gift of life. Arkane holds the tassels to his cheek and embraces them. Images of his loved ones’ deaths flash before his eyes. The lull in the battle ends and Arkane comes back to reality and slashes his powerful weapons with several striking techniques in preparation for the ensuing battle. Arkane turns to face his nemesis with a furious yet determined gaze. Emotions burn within him as the words and music conjure feelings inside. He becomes a puppet to the music, as it incites him with desire and motivation.

Gabriel continues with a second verse . . .

“Until I am a dune washed away or a corpse decayed, it will never be over!
 
Until I am ash in a fire or charred in a pyre, it will never be over!
 
Until revenge bittersweet or my mission complete, it will never be over!
 
Behold! My powers awakened, until my will overtaken, it will never be over, never be over!”

The second verse instils Arkane with renewed vigour and purpose. Arkane turns toward the warrior with a determined glare, breathing more and more heavily. His chest starts to expand further with each new breath, expanding his collapsed lungs and re-binding his broken ribs. His body becomes imbued with power by the influential forces within the music as the words bring meaning to everything he feels and believes possible.

Arkane makes a promise to himself, “I swear on my daughter. As long as I am alive and until I perish, I will fight.”

After the second verse, the power of the energy shard pushing against the warrior fades. It has managed to push the warrior back hundreds of meters and buried him in the rubble. Two trails, of the warrior’s feet that dug into the earth, are noticeably deeper from the initial contact until his current position and final destination in a 5-metre deep crescent crater. Layers of the earth have been stripped away and stacked behind the warrior by the defensive force of his block maneuver.

The warrior’s frustration becomes anger, then rage as he digs himself out of the earth, crushing the surrounding rocks in the process. He leaps out of the crater and bellows a roar in frustration at the guitar-wielding Gabriel and the now-standing Arkane. The warrior sprints with blistering speed, lunging forward deeply and pushing off with his feet with so much force that the earth crushes beneath him. His halberd is held in a decisive preemptive striking position as he begins his assault.

Gabriel continues to play his heavy music in the background, inspiring and infusing Arkane with power. Arkane charges toward the warrior, equaling his speed and determination. Sparks fly as the two clash weapons together on the initial strike. Arkane follows up the strike with a flurry of dual-wielding strikes. He attempts to strike from multiple directions, sweeping, lunging deep into a spinning backhand strike, trying to find an opening. The warrior matches Arkane’s speed to block and evade each potential blow. The warrior maintains his resolve, enduring another series of powerful strikes while having to use every effort to block and evade them. Arkane was not the warrior so easily defeated only moments ago.

They separate for a brief moment, the warrior now realizing Arkane’s newfound strength. Ignoring his heavy breathing, Arkane dashes forward again, lunging from a low position and sweeping high with both axes at once. The warrior leaps into the air and catches both axes with his halberd. The weapons lock together as the two come crashing back to earth, wrestling each other with their ensnared weapons. The blades produce shrieking grinding sounds under the immense pressure of the struggle. With a mighty exertion of energy, Arkane tightens the lock on the halberd’s blade and kicks the warrior with such force that the warrior loses his grip on his weapon. Arkane uses his axes to hurl the warrior’s halberd away, leaving the warrior defenceless.

“Impressive strength”, the warrior acknowledges, clenching his fists.

The warrior’s fists begin to illuminate with a red glow.

“But brute force always has its limitations!”, warns the warrior.

The warrior weaves his hands in front of him and launches a bolt of bright fire. Arkane crosses his axes to block the attack but the launched fire attack was molten rock and it binds itself to Arkane’s forearms, setting his armbands on fire and searing his skin. He screams in agony as the molten rock burns deep into his flesh until it hardens to rock. Arkane’s hands become heavy as they become bound by the rock, still holding onto his axes. Arkane readily notices the increased weight and his arms drop slightly. Arkane regains his composure, embracing the burden and shapes up his original battle stance. The warrior smirks and dashes forward. Arkane attacks in response but with his reduced speed he misses several strikes and the warrior steps around him, lunging to the ground under Arkane’s sweeping attack and re-equipping his halberd, ready to resume the duel.

The warrior holds the blade of his halberd in the air in front of him and uses his free hand to conjure fire in the blade. The warrior leaps at Arkane, wildly swinging his halberd, and the blade leaves behind a trailing tail of fire with the swipe. Arkane manages to block the attack with both axes and the fire of the halberd blade flares into his face. The warrior draws back his weapon and leaps forward on the offensive, changing the tide of the battle. The warrior is now noticeably faster than Arkane and he lands some glancing strikes throughout the melee. He skillfully spins his halberd between strikes, never making it obvious where the attack will originate from. The blade easily cuts through Arkane’s tattered leather armour and each time, the flaming weapon sears his flesh. Arkane’s flesh becomes bloodied as the warrior’s strikes reactivate previous wounds which now start to ooze blood, staining the leather material of his armour. Arkane’s skin becomes enveloped in multiple shades of blood red.

The warrior changes the tempo of his assault, holding back his power, opting for high percentage strikes, and waiting for an opportune moment to end the fight in one blow. Using his extremely well-developed technique and long-range weapon, he picks Arkane apart. Arkane becomes frustrated and loses his composure, overextending with a brutal sweeping attack.
The warrior seizes the opportunity, lunging in the opposite direction, exposing Arkane’s neck and shoulder. With explosive speed the warrior pulls his halberd behind him, swinging from a high arc to land a substantial strike on top of Arkane’s shoulder blade with full force. The tip of the halberd’s blade flares as it plunges deep into Arkane’s chest, past his clavicle and multiple ribs. The flaming blade becomes extinguished by the presence of blood and it rests in Arkane’s chest, steaming. Arkane’s arms drop to his side and he becomes limp and drops to his knees. His head slumps forward and his consciousness fades.

Noticing the mortal wound to Arkane, Gabriel’s song changes. The once high tones become a thunderous and abyssal symphony of power chords. For a brief moment, the change in tempo break’s Arkane’s focus on the pain and his fading strength. The thumping beat intensifies, syncopating with the rapidly strummed heavy riff, and Gabriel sings with increased ferocity.

*Play Intro for No way out, Bullet for my valentine, (First 15 seconds) imagining that the 2 loops of the intro continue to cycle several more times*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKK5L0IYheQ

“I am fear, anguish, rage, welcome to the stage
Animus unrestrained, unable to be contained
 
I am a disease taking hold, a fire uncontrolled
the accelerant in a blaze, evisceration from a blade
 
I am your dark sworn nemesis, slaughter’s genesis
death incarnate, poison, venom, conjugate
 
I am torture in the darkness, a weapon against the heartless
prolific sound distorter and I promise you no quarter”.

Arkane lifts his head and his eyes meet the gaze of the warrior. With the halberd still lodged deeply into his chest, Arkane lifts his knee and plants his foot and lunges to a stand. Blood oozes freely from the wound and the flow increases as the halberd is pulled out, releasing a disgusting sound of suction. Arkane’s expression becomes that of rage while the warrior’s expression conveys nothing but awe. With a sudden burst of ferocity, Arkane raises both his axes and strikes each side of the warrior’s head crushing the ram horns. The solidified rock violently explodes from Arkane’s forearms on impact.

The warrior’s helmet, once in perfect condition, caves in, obscuring his view. Unfazed by the wound to his shoulder and chest, Arkane resumes the battle while the warrior is vulnerable, unleashing an onslaught of devastating strikes. There is a noticeable gap between Arkane’s shoulder and chest every time he attacks with his right hand, yet each strike landed becomes more powerful than the last and Arkane starts to obliterate the warrior’s armour. The plates of the warrior’s steel armour shatter after each strike, scattering shrapnel through the air. The warrior manages to block one of the blows but his halberd gets knocked to the ground by the force of the strike. Through his obscured vision he catches a glimpse of Arkane and opens his arms wide then pushes his arms forward, unleashing a furious gust of wind. The wind accelerates towards Arkane, pushing him back. The gale intensifies into a swirling vortex, enveloping Arkane in a helix of furious wind. The warrior weaves his hands and raises them in the air to force more power into a tornado. Arkane tries to walk through the churning dust as stones swirl beneath Arkane’s feet but he struggles to maintain his footing and retreats into the eye of the tornado, trapped.

The warrior clenches a fist in front of his face, creating an amber glow that is visible in the gaps between his fingers. He unravels his fingers revealing a small magical ember, then blows gently on it. The ember floats towards the raging tornado and, once within range of the tornado’s vacuum, quickly gets sucked into the vortex. The tornado becomes ignited with a ferocious blaze, perpetuated by the tornado’s innate ability to draw in oxygen from its surroundings. The sky lights up with vivid shades of yellow and orange while the tornado increases in size and brightness. The blazing vortex quickly expands, dragging Arkane into the furious winds and easily lifting him off his feet and launching him skyward, swirling in the powerful winds, helpless.

The warrior removes his helmet to witness the brilliance and grandeur of his craft and lets out a maniacal laugh.

Despite his volition, Gabriel starts to doubt his abilities.

“Shit! This guy is incredible. He’s too strong, what the fuck have I got myself into!”, Gabriel says to himself.

A voice familiar to Gabriel speaks from within his mind - “Fascinating, this one. He suffers, but his essence does not wane.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at him, he’s fucked. Even the fall from that height will kill him.” Said Gabriel.

The voice continues, “Ahh Gabriel, you need to pay more attention. There was more than one reason we were sent here and I sense it’s because of what this creature is capable of. Rest now, I know what I must do.”

“What? No, Lilith, don’t! I . . .” Gabriel responds with apprehension before becoming languid and trailing off.

“Okay Arkane, this might sting a bit.” The voice warns.

Gabriel stops playing the guitar and seems to lose consciousness. His head tilts forwards and his arms drop to his sides as he goes limp. Without his soundwaves pushing back against the force of the tornado, the many layers of his armour blow fiercely in the wind. With no music to obscure his sense of pain, the reality of Arkane’s wounds becomes readily apparent. Arkane howls in agony as the pain reaches unbearable levels. His screams increase in frequency as the flames scald his skin and his many afflictions compound and intensify the pain. His screams become distinct amongst the roaring sound of the tornado’s raging fire and the cackling laughter of the warrior, which echoes throughout the desolate landscape.

Content with his triumph over Arkane, the warrior shifts his focus to Gabriel, glaring wrathfully, and thinks to himself, “Finally! An end to that wretched sound. Now to finish this!”

The warrior picks up his halberd and marches towards Gabriel with conviction. Suddenly, the sky darkens to pure black, swallowing the light emanating from the tornado. The warrior stops in his tracks to observe the spectacle in disbelief.
With his face in the light of the tornado, Gabriel lifts his head, looking aghast as his pupils dilate until his eyes become completely black. His throat releases sickly croaking sounds as he draws breath. Gabriel’s body begins to spasm and contort as it begins to change. Lilith, the vengeful spirit that inhabits Gabriel’s body, takes control and assumes physical form within the vessel of Gabriel's body. Gabriel starts to move unnaturally as if his limbs are forced to move like a puppet master would move a puppet. Gabriel’s hands are forcibly placed back onto the guitar.

*start playing new Millenium cyanide christ from Meshuggah at 4:08*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4A_tSyJBsRQ

Gabriel discharges a desolating roar and with an explosive twitch of his muscles, he starts playing a brutal and eardrum-perforating metal breakdown. Gabriel rocks his head back and forth with the same slowed rhythm and unnatural movement. gfgf

Gabriel begins to metamorphose as each cycle of the riff progresses. Deep impressions form in his cheeks, his brow swells with jagged bone and thorns emerge around his forehead and chin piercing through his flesh and the wounds begin to bleed. Skeletal wings emerge from his back, stretching out three meters on either side. As they develop, the bony appendages lift his many layers of draped material from the dirt. The layered materials flow in the wind far behind Gabriel and make his wings appear twice the size. As the transformation nears completion Gabriel’s movements become smoother and more controlled as if the spirit within is adapting to the host body.

The immense quaking vibrations from the metal breakdown start affecting the surrounding environment. The music is so heavy that the air becomes immeasurably dense as the dust, and particles in the air vibrate, maintaining a gravity-defying stasis mid-air.

Regaining his composure, the warrior resumes his advance toward Gabriel but he too is affected by the music. He charges at Gabriel for but a moment until he starts to slow, feeling as if he is running through sand and then wading through waist-high water. The effect only strengthens as he draws closer, to the point where he is unable to move an inch closer. The warrior strains and exerts himself against the seemingly invisible barrier.

“What is this trickery? Impossible!”, exclaims the warrior.

The warrior continues his futile efforts to force his way closer with cumulative frustration. The raging tornado loses all momentum and slows to a halt and the fire dissipates. The helix of boulders and stones maintain their elevation among the dust, constrained in place by the vibrating sound waves.

Gabriel’s transformation completes as he holds the final note in the riff cycle and slowly lowers the neck of the guitar. Gabriel closes his eyes as the sound of the note lowers in tone until it becomes a deep, ominous drone that hangs in the air and time seems to slow. The hindering effect of the metal breakdown dissipates and the warrior regains his ability to move, charging once more at Gabriel. The effect similarly diminishes from Arkane and he comes crashing to the ground along with the rocks and boulders around him. The leather materials of his armour that had caught fire in the blazing vortex become extinguished by the fall. Arkane rolls over to his hands and knees, his body in shock.
The warrior’s right hand becomes ablaze and he launches a fireball at Gabriel while continuing his assault.
Gabriel’s eyes open and target the warrior. . .
*Play Nemesis by Arch Enemy*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9AcG0glVu4

With speed and skill beyond that of any mortal musician, Gabriel begins to shred an astonishing yet vicious riff containing a series of scaled notes going up and down in pitch and tone. Now controlled by the malevolent and vengeful spirit within, Gabriel conjures sound not of this realm to form part of the riff. The ground around him thunders with a double kick drum beat and explosive snare strikes. The warrior’s fireball has almost reached Gabriel when he unleashes an apocalyptic and eviscerating death metal scream, dispersing the flame into nothing with the pressure waves of his voice.

The music in the background erratically tears at Arkane’s emotions as he notices the blackened tassels on his axe. Grunting in pain he clutches at the burnt materials in vain and as they turn to ash he rubs them down his brow and cheeks, staining them to black. With the realization that nothing tangible remains to connect him to his family, Arkane’s rage breaks through into the metaphysical realm. The sound of the warrior’s laughter still echoes in Arkane’s mind as his muscles pulse and bulge and his breathing becomes shallow and rapid. His pupils change to white and almost seem to glow in juxtaposition with his darkened skin, scorched by the flames of the tornado. Arkane clenches his fists so tight that his fingernails pierce the skin of his palms and they start to bleed. He becomes overwhelmed with vehemence and despair and screams at the sky with a thunderous roar. His roasted leather armour disintegrates off his muscular chest, revealing his various runic emblem tattoos across his shoulders and pecs.

After one verse, Gabriel breaks into a short solo, shredding an inexplicable number of notes in a single bar of the song’s timing. With pure and unadulterated fury, Arkane thumps his chest and bellows a devastating war cry, immediately smothering the surrounding flames and scattering their ashes. With blazing speed, Arkane surges across the decimated battleground and intercepts the warrior before he reaches Gabriel. Arkane and the warrior converge with the clash of their weapons. The impact releases a shockwave akin to that of a thunderclap, knocking each of the pair back.

Astonished, confounded and affected by the music, the warrior comprehends fear. It is an unfamiliar emotion to the warrior but it passes and he regains his composure to enter his defensive stance again, resolute.

Arkane charges again in a paroxysm of rage, assailing the warrior with a potent combination of overhand strikes. The increased muscle mass in Arkane greatly augments his strength but decreases his speed. The warrior blocks each strike but struggles to hold back the impetus of each contact. The warrior is amazed that his adversary, who has been on the brink of death twice, is still holding his own in battle.

“He . . . is . . . relentless!. I need to end this now before he grows in power”, concludes the warrior.
A glowing mist swirls around the warrior as, with extraordinary mental strength, he focuses his energy to imbue his body with immense power. The warrior bellows a mighty roar as the energy within him surges. Infuriated and in desperation, the warrior holds nothing back as he charges back into the fray. The warrior begins to match Arkane’s brute strength in battle as he builds in power, the mist-like energy vortex around him intensifying and growing in diameter.

Each time the duo clashes weapons, sonic microbursts erupt from the immense contact. In the heat of battle, the warrior reaches his power threshold, causing a glimmering wave of energy to burst violently from his body. The force blasts Arkane back over one hundred meters away and he lands heavily into the base of one of the surrounding pillars of stone, leaving a deep crater surrounded by a spider-web pattern array of cracks from the impact. Despite the heavy blow, Arkane recovers quickly and blitzes toward the warrior.

The warrior glances at Arkane with a smirk. He throws his halberd aside and places his hands in front of him, aiming his palms at the ground, forcing energy deep within. With one swift manoeuvre, the warrior pulls his arms apart, tearing the ground asunder, ripping a deep fissure into the earth, perpendicular to Arkane. The earth tremors as the fissures expand to over one hundred meters in width, creating a jagged schism. From the deep crevasse radiates a fiery amber glow as the warrior brings his arms down in front of him, palms facing up and begins to lift as if picking up the earth itself.

The warrior severs the rock from the earth, pulling it skyward. With the same energy, the warrior pushes the rock from beneath, curling it around itself in line with Arkane. Ignoring the towering slab of earth, Arkane maintains the trajectory of his rampaging charge.

The upsurge of rock grows in size as it picks up speed until it peaks at twenty stories in height and reaches its tipping point. The colossal tidal wave of earthen rock comes crashing down on top of Arkane, pulverizing the earth. The gargantuan slab of rock collapses with such force it splinters into thousands of pieces and releases a monstrous cloud of dust that propagates for kilometres. For a moment the warrior is blinded by the wave of dust and scattering shards of rock before he notices a flash of a silhouette of Arkane right in front of him. In his berserking rage, Arkane had charged right through solid rock like it was nothing and leapt across the gaping canyon left in the wake of the warrior’s sorcery to ambush the warrior.

Emerging from dust mid-air, Arkane lands heavily on the ground and smites the warrior’s head with his right axe and follows up the with an onslaught of punishing blows. The warrior recoils from each strike but the axe barely breaks the skin of his hardened flesh. Despite his minimal impact Arkane is vehement, sustaining the assault and unleashing another flurry of attacks, his speed blinding, his power overwhelming.

*Play Make Total Destroy by Periphery*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spCmStMOiHE

Gabriel, whose body has been taken over by the vengeful spirit within, shifts his music to a savage, high tempo and syncopated breakdown with momentary shifts to play a sequence of high melodic notes before returning to the brutal heaviness of his breakdown riff, still singing all the while in his ghastly and coarse voice.

In the background, Gabriel conjures deep a and earthshaking double-kick, shock-wave generating beat and Arkane allows the beat to guide him with his strikes. For a short period, Arkane rapidly strikes the warrior several times per second in short bursts, moving with the booming, syncopated beat. Gabriel shifts the breakdown, playing a quick sequence of power chords with multiple strums on each chord, guiding Arkane through an alternate series of attacks until the warrior finally recovers and catches an axe between his hands. The warrior conjures a powerful explosion between his palms and explodes the dragon horn of Arkane’s axe into dust and knocks him back. Arkane’s grip fails on the exploded axe handle and it flies across the craggy plane.

Realizing that the stone around him is useless against such a powerful foe, the warrior uses every ounce of his power to pull the molten earth beneath from the schism. The earth quakes as the cliff face shifts further apart, deepening the crevasse. The gaping chasm explodes with flaming lumps of liquefied rock. Despite the raining fire, Arkane shows no fear and charges again to unleash another series of strikes with his single axe. The warrior invokes fire in his palms and launches a series of fireballs to counter Arkane’s attacks. The pair continue the battle as the sky becomes beset with smoke and ash from the lava-disgorging abyss.

The flow of lava surges as the chasm grows in size, intensifying and increasing the frequency of the explosions. The rain of fire increases in density making it more difficult to avoid. Some of the falling lava lands nearby Arkane and the blazing fluid ferociously splashes onto his flesh. Despite the peril he is in, Arkane continues the assault, never backing down. The warrior continues to release bursts of fireballs but they don’t seem to have much effect. The same fireballs had dismembered and torn flesh off bone against his preceding opponents. The warrior starts using more energy to charge up each invocation with more power, attacking at a much slower rate but each supercharged fireball that lands cause Arkane to reel from the impact.

The deluge of molten rock becomes unavoidable, and Arkane starts to be inundated by lava amidst the showering inferno. The warrior is similarly engulfed but having trained with fire for millennia, he is invulnerable to its effects. Arkane and the warrior have exerted almost all of their energy at this point and Arkane’s attacks become slowed and lethargic. Similarly exhausted, the warrior decides to risk taking on the full brunt of one of Arkane’s attacks to land a heavy blow of his own. The warrior charges a fireball in his hand and waits for Arkane’s next attack. Arkane charges and, with a jink to the left, lands a heavy blow which carves into the warrior’s left pec, before flanking the warrior with a second strike to the side of the warrior’s neck. The warrior grips the hilt of the blade and lunges down, pulling Arkane down with him. The warrior brings the hand holding the fireball to Arkane’s chest and releases its build-up power, the explosion launching Arkane across the battlefield.

Believing his victory is imminent, the warrior charges up a fierce orb of fire between his hands. The orb burns with a fiery red and shifts to amber as it builds with power. The blasts of lava begin to abate as the warrior’s energy is diverted to his final attack. The orb becomes surrounded by a vivid blue aura, which takes on a crescent shape and creates a light-bending effect as its heat reaches extreme temperatures. As energy surges within the orb, sudden flashes of increased brightness flare and start to lash out with strands of fire. The orb is greater in size than the warrior’s full arm span. He floats the orb several meters above his head. Streams of fire and energy swirl around the warrior as he uses both arms to continue to force energy into the orb. Drawn to the immense power, large boulders and shards of stone break away from the earth and begin to orbit the warrior.

Arkane’s various wounds have become overwhelming and he lays still on his back, exhausted and weighed down by the molten rock buried within his skin.

Seeing Arkane helpless, Gabriel shifts his music and plays a rousing and slowed melody without a drum beat. The music pulls at Arkane once again, willing him to overcome his body’s failings and fight for just a moment longer, but he simply refuses.

In the brief silence within the song, Arkane catches a flash of his daughter’s image and he hears another version of himself speaking within his fading consciousness.

           “Is this what she would want? Her father dying for nothing?”
            “Is this what she deserves? Is she not worthy of revenge?”
            “What happened to your promise? Your words mean nothing”
            “You’re useless, You’re weak, you’re nothing, you’re no one.”
           “You’re not worthy of being a druid.”
           “You’re not worthy of being a father.”

Something intrinsic and truly ominous with boundless potency stirs deep within Arkane. He rushes to his feet and as he screams in response to the voice in his head his tattoos burst out a vivid white flash of light as he screams out.
“NO!"
The booming sound of his voice echoes off the surrounding mountains multiple times as the powerful screen hangs in the air.
​
I won’t let it end like THIS!”

Arkane detonates with energy. The hardened rocks buried into his flesh are forced out and tumble to the ground.

The warrior becomes alarmed by the change in music and launches the blazing orb towards Arkane, darkening the ground in shadow as it travels at great speed.

Arkane’s staggered approach becomes a march, then a run, into a rampaging charge. On his path, Arkane locates his axe and, with a dive at the ground and somersault, he re-equips his axe and resumes his charge. As Arkane hurtles towards his imminent doom, his tattoos start pulsing with a glowing white in unison with the runic symbols on his axe handle. As Arkane draws closer to the orb, each pulsing glow of his tattoos aggrandizes. With each pulse, the tattoos extend further up and down his arms and across his chest and back until his entire body pulses with the mysterious glowing energy.

At a full sprint, the light emanating from Arkane’s tattoos emanates from his body and into the axe. Arkane dives forward into a lunge and, with all his might, hurls his axe towards the warrior. Upon Arkane’s release of the axe, the light flows from his body and into the axe, erupting a blinding white shockwave of light with the attack.

The shockwave leads in front of the spinning axe’s trajectory and seems to tear the fabric of space and time, leaving behind a trail of crackling white energy which rips straight through the orb, tearing it in half. The two halves of the orb blitz past either side of Arkane and crash into the mountains surrounding them. With two simultaneous explosions, they obliterate the mountains and they come crashing down in the background. The earth trembles at the tremendous impacts of the collapsing stone. The wave of light punches straight through the warrior leaving a gaping hole below his solar plexus and tearing through his spine. Arkane stands facing the warrior as he collapses to his knees and coughs a spurt of blood. In his last moments of life and despite having a compromised spine, the warrior looks to the sky and opens his arms wide to grip every cinder, ember, flame and drop of lava at the same time and pull them towards him. Arkane kicks him to the ground and looks down on the warrior with absolute disdain.

Fire dances through the sky like a flock of birds as Gabriel reaches the climax of the song. Time slows for a perfect moment when, as the fiery mass draws closer, it forms a perfect dome of fire around Arkane and the warrior. Gabriel ends his song at this very moment and time stops as the dome of intense fire explodes, releasing a refulgent burst of white light that engulfs the entire landscape.